


A Touch of Kindness

by AllNatural



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Food Issues, Gen, Introspection, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 09:18:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11871273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllNatural/pseuds/AllNatural
Summary: They danced around each other, pretending things were normal when they most certainly were not.   And he would fight to keep it that way, which meant acknowledging both sides of his life:  the side which humans couldn’t see, and the side where he needed to learn empathy and kindness.





	A Touch of Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> I have a huge obsession with the characterization and interaction between Natsume and the Fujiwara couple. Seriously. It's getting overboard. This was supposed to be about Nyanko-sensei and then this happened.

“Oi, Natsume!”

Takashi didn’t even have time to turn, his vision swimming as the dizziness hit him full force.  He let his eyes fall closed, body slumping to the side as gravity grew stronger than his muscles, the cool hardwood floor a balm against his flushed skin.  He didn’t get to bask in it, however, as a strangely smooth paw pressed against his exposed cheek, ceramic nails digging into the flesh.

“Touko made salmon, get me some!”

Takashi ignored him, rolling his face so that his forehead pressed against the wood, but the panels beneath him were already heating up from his body temperature, and the relief was fading just as fast.  Nyanko’s porcelain body crawled onto his side, feet digging painfully into the space between his ribs as he climbed further up Takashi’s body, the polished nose pressing into his face as the demands continued.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m tired, Sensei,” Takashi murmured, and the demon scoffed.

“If you keep giving names back, what am I going to have left? You deserve it.  Earn your forgiveness by getting me dinner.”

“We already ate, you were out drinking,” he said, his words slurring slightly as he didn’t bother to turn his head to look at the cat.

“I don’t care, feed me anyway.”

Takashi groaned, exhaling noisily before rolling onto his stomach, knocking the lucky cat container off his side.  Shaking arms slid beneath his too-thin torso, hands spreading on the warm floorboards to brace him as he pushed onto his knees.  His arms nearly gave out, but he grit his teeth as he pushed himself into a kneeling position.

Specks of white burst behind his closed eyes, and bile rose to burn the back of his throat, sourness washing over his tongue as his stomach churned.

The nausea got him moving faster than Nyanko’s demands for fish.  His feet were quickly beneath him as he used the wall to brace himself, moving toward the toilet.  He barely made it, hands clenching white porcelain as his stomach gave in and expelled its contents into the water.  Once his body decided there was nothing left to offer, he rested his head against the back of the seat as his hand blindly found the lever.

“Are you done yet?” Nyanko’s voice echoed in the room, the impatient snarl underlying the slight hissing of his words.  Takashi nodded, only taking the minimal amount of time needed to wash out his mouth, rinse his face, and pat it dry to hide the evidence of his bout of sickness.

“You know, if you stopped giving names out left and right, you wouldn’t be sick all the time,” Nyanko pointed out, ceramic feet thudding dully against the wooden steps as he made his way down to the ground floor.  Takashi paused at the base of the stairs, closing his eyes and listening for where the Fujiwara couple were at.  He could barely make out their soft voices, a private conversation that could either be in their room or outside.  Either way, they wouldn’t see Takashi taking food upstairs, wouldn’t see how pale he was, how his hands shook as he pushed leftover salmon and rice into a bowl.

The smell made Takashi queasy, his empty stomach roiling as a reminder of what it had just lost not even ten minutes earlier, but once it passed hunger followed in its steps.  He eyed the rice and salmon, checking the fridge to see if Touko had already made their lunches for tomorrow – which she had, wrapped in clean white cloth for Takashi and deep blue for Shigeru – before filling a second bowl.

Nyanko huffed, a silent scolding for time wasted, before he turned and trotted back up the stairs, Takashi’s steps merely ghosting the wood in comparison to the _clunk, clunk, clunk_ , of his bodyguard.  The walk back was easier than the walk downstairs, the spinning in his head lessening as he stayed upright.  The first few bites of food were the hardest – they always were, no matter if he felt sick or not – but by the time Nyanko was sprawled out on his pillow, the shaking in Takashi’s limbs had faded, the food going down easier and quelling both his nausea and his hunger.

It never failed to amaze Takashi how Nyanko never outright told him to take care of himself, yet managed to do it regardless.  He let his fingers trail across the glazed porcelain surface, feeling out the bumps and ridges from dried paint and varnish that gave away his feline companion as _more_. 

He wondered how Nyanko felt to Touko or Shigeru, if they felt fur and warmth when they pet him.  If his skin gave under their touch instead of unyielding.  If they heard the hollow thuds of his steps or if they were more substantial.

Or if they merely dismissed the cat’s oddities in the same way they dismissed Takashi’s.  Noticed, but never mentioned.

“Are you done being pathetic now?” Nyanko asked, eyes slitting open to shine in the overhead light, and Takashi hummed, picking up the two empty bowls and taking them back downstairs.  He washed them, mind drifting as he absently toweled them dry and placed them back in the cupboard, the only sign of intrusion being the damp hand cloth hanging on the oven door and the missing rice and salmon from the fridge.  But it was not an unusual thing to find at night, this routine ingrained in all four of the household members.

He suspected that Touko and Shigeru avoided coming out whenever Takashi grabbed his late-night snack.  The first few times they checked on him, Takashi ended going back upstairs empty-handed, suffering for it the next day.  Now, he made sure to be mindful of the noise he made, pretending not to notice that there was always more leftovers than necessary after dinner.  There was always plenty of food for both the midnight snack and lunch the next day.

They danced around each other, pretending things were normal when they most certainly were not.  But that was more than Takashi ever had in his life, and it was comforting.  They cared for him without closing him in.  They provided for him without expecting anything in return.  They never asked for more than Takashi could give him, and he tried his best to not be a burden.  They were firm with him when necessary, wanting to know when he was staying at a friend’s, or staying out late, or not returning home immediately after school, but never restricting his need to be gone.  He’d been alone for far too long to be able to act like a normal teenager his age, to be a child to two people who never had children.  But what he had with them was better than what he had with any of his old families.  And he would fight to keep it.

Which meant returning the names of those his grandmother had taken by force.  Which meant putting himself in danger to undo the damage she had left.  Which meant risking his life to fend off the dangerous ones and appeasing the friendlier ones.  Which meant acknowledging both sides of his life:  the side which humans couldn’t see, and the side where he needed to learn empathy and kindness.  Which meant opening himself up to danger and kindness.  Opening his heart to demons, spirits, and humans alike.  Which meant not being alone anymore.

“Are you done being all emotional?  I’m trying to sleep,” Nyanko muttered, kicking him in the side as his large body rolled over, stealing a good portion of the blankets and pillow in the process.  Takashi huffed, shoving the lucky cat off of the bed and snatching his covers back in the process.

“Shut up,” he muttered, his words lacking heat.  Things were normal as they could be, and that was all Takashi needed.  As Nyanko’s porcelain body snuck back under the blanket, chilled from the cool night air, he didn’t have to worry about what dangers the night held.  Nightmares would come, that was a given.  But tomorrow, there would be more names to give back, more humans to interact with, and more danger to face.  But the dangerous denizens of the night would be fought off by Nyanko,  nightmares soothed by the presence of Touko and Shigeru, and his day brightened by the presence of his friends at school and in the forest.

“Goodnight, Sensei,” he murmured, and all he received – and needed - was an annoyed huff of air.


End file.
